Christmas Presents
by LeeLee Lollipop
Summary: Set at Christmas, duh! John arrives with all the guests to find Sherlock stoned on heroin, then Mycroft shows up and gives Sherlock alcohol. Why? Won't that make it worse? Unless there's a reason...
1. Christmas Is Cancelled

_**A.N. - I don't know Anderson's first name, so I'm just going to call him Peter. It's a boring name, it fits him. (No offence meant to any Peters out there!)**_

John led everyone up the stairs to 221b. He was surprised that Sally and Peter had shown up.

"We don't hate you, just the Freak." Sally smiled.

"How -?"

"I could see it in your face." she explained.

John smiled as he opened the door, then paled as he saw Sherlock lying comatose on the couch. He heard Molly and Greg gasp in shock as they saw too.

"Sherlock?" John shook Sherlock and heard a small clatter. He looked down and saw a needle on the floor, having just fallen from Sherlock's fingers.

"Oh, not again." groaned Greg.

"Brilliant." sneered Peter. "The Freak decided to get stoned and ruin Christmas."

John turned to Peter. "Just once, can you stop?"

"John's right. This is serious, Sherlock hasn't done drugs since I arrested him for it." Greg said.

"He does drugs every birthday and Christmas eve, Detective Inspector."

John turned to see Mycroft in the doorway holding a gift bag. He sighed in relief. "Can you help?"

"Certainly, Doctor Watson." He walked over to Sherlock and slapped him across the face.

"Sherlock jerked awake and glared at Mycroft. "You're late."

"You have company, brother dearest, and I brought you something to compensate for my lateness."

Sherlock glared at John. "I told John I didn't want people over and I hardly think that _Anderson_ counts as company. They can all go fuck themselves!"

"Sherlock, it's Christmas!" Molly said.

John winced as Sherlock gave a bitter laugh. "You think I don't know that? I had you pegged as reasonably smart, Molly. Perhaps I was mistaken."

Mycroft sighed. "Do you want a glass?"

"I a way beyond the glass, Mycroft, just give me the damn bottle."

John held Mycroft's arm. "I saw what was in that bag. If he's been injecting heroin, you are _not_ giving him straight vodka, Mycroft. I won't allow it."

Mycroft laughed, the same bitter laugh that had burst from Sherlock. "Poor, naïve Doctor Watson. Don't talk about things you couldn't possibly understand."

"What are we supposed to understand?" Sally asked. "He's stoned and you're giving him vodka, which will just make him worse. What is there to understand?"

"There is a reason me and my brother will spend tonight drinking ourselves into oblivion, him more so than me. _That_ is what you could not hope to understand." Mycroft handed a bottle of vodka to Sherlock and sat next to him on the couch. "I am not Sherlock's only sibling. Sherlock has a sister, a twin sister named Rose."

"Had, Mycroft. _Had_ a twin sister. She was found dead in a field, remember?"

"Shut up, Sherlock. You're in no fit state to explain everything."

John frowned as Sherlock sneered at his brother and took a swig of the vodka. "What else?" he asked.

Mycroft sighed again. "Sherlock and Rose were close, closer than you'd ever expect twins to be. She was the only person who could get him to eat, or talk to him when he was in one of his moods. He even slept when she asked him to. It was the same reversed. They were two halves of one being. Sherlock was always analytical, Rose was emotional. Then, a few days after their 17th birthday, Rose went missing. Sherlock spent all day and all night looking for her. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep. He didn't stop looking until she was found dead."

"When?" asked Molly.

"Christmas eve, 18 years ago." Sherlock said quietly.

Peter started to say something, but John saw Sally elbow him. "Stop it!" She hissed. "It doesn't matter if it's him or not, it's still upsetting!"

Mycroft reached into the gift bag and pulled out a small case. "I found something at the house, Sherlock. Something I made when I was younger. I thought you'd like to see it, especially today."

Sherlock looked up at his brother. "What?"

John was handed a DVD. "Is this it?"

"Play the disc, Doctor Watson."


	2. Birthday Pirates

_Mycroft's face filled the screen. Well, a Mycroft that was around ten years old. He grinned and pointed across the garden he was stood in. The camera swung round and focused on a little boy who was tickling a little girl._

"Is that -?"

"Sherlock? Yes."

John's mouth dropped open and he saw that everyone else's had done the same. The Sherlock on the DVD was smiling freely, at ease with showing his emotions.

"How old are they?" Molly asked, a slight smile on her face.

"Four." Sherlock said. "This is our fourth birthday,"

"_Sherlock!" A woman's voice called from behind the camera. "Leave your sister alone!"_

_The two twins looked up and smiled. Sherlock stood up and pulled his sister to her feet. Sherlock brushed down his sister's dress and she wiped grass off his shoulders then they ran to Mycroft. Sherlock grinned at Mycroft and Rose smiled at the camera._

Sally and Molly chuckled when they saw the missing teeth in Sherlock's smile.

"_Mycroft, come and play!" Sherlock said, while Rose pulled on her older brother's hand._

"_Sherlock, Rose, you do know what today is, don't you?"_

_They both nodded. "Birthday. Now play."_

Greg chuckled. "You don't change much, Sherlock,"

John looked across at his friend and saw that he had a faint smile on his face.

_Mycroft laughed and followed his siblings. 2What are we playing?"_

_Little Sherlock and Rose looked at each other and grinned. "Pirates!"_

_Mycroft paused the DVD as the film cut off. "That's all we did for the rest of that day. Mummy had a sort of tea party planned, but we decided not to have it."_

"_You played 'Pirates'?"_

_Sherlock looked up at Peter. His mouth opened, but he looked at the TV and shut it. He sighed and took another swig of vodka._

_John looked helplessly at Mycroft. "What did you do last year when he did this?"_

_Mycroft looked down. "I was trying to prevent a war at the time. Anthea sorted him out without me knowing."_

"_Just play the damn DVD, Mycroft." Sherlock growled._


	3. Lullabies

_Sherlock looked down the microscope and frowned. "Well, that can't be right."_

John smiled. Sherlock looked to be about 10 years old, and already doing his little experiments.

_Rose appeared in the doorway. "Mycroft did it again."_

_Sherlock looked up from his microscope and frowned. "Did what?"_

John and Molly gaped. "You never leave your experiments!"

"It was Rose." was all Sherlock said.

_Rose pushed him away from the microscope and looked down it herself. "He's put camera's up everywhere again. I don't know where so we can't get rid of them, and you need a bit more acid on this. It'll work better then."_

_Sherlock smiled and did as she said. "So long as he hasn't put them up in our bedroom, I don't care."_

"_He hasn't, Mummy told him not to."_

_The door opened and Mycroft stood there looking frantic. "Put that away and get changed. Hurry!"_

_The twins looked at each other. "What?"_

"_Hurry! _He_ phoned Mummy, he's coming home early!"_

_Sherlock paled and Rose ran out of the room. "I'll sort your clothes. Hurry!"_

Sherlock threw Mycroft's glass against the room. "This has nothing to do with her! Turn it off!"

"Look. Freak, I know you're upset but you can't throw -"

"_What_ did you just call my brother, Anderson?" John shivered as he saw Mycroft's glare. Sherlock had flinched at the name 'Freak' and Molly sobbed slightly as he sat down at his brother's feet and buried his face in Mycroft's lap.

"Turn it off." she begged. "Can't you see it's hurting him? Please?"

Mycroft shook his head. "Damage has been done to my brother. Scars that will never heal, and ones that started to. Until _those two_ decided become nothing better than schoolyard bullies. They need to know exactly how much pain they have caused!"

_The door opened and Sherlock and Rose flinched. Mycroft's jaw clenched and he moved a little closer to his siblings._

Sherlock began to whimper, and Mycroft ran a hand through his curls, humming a soft lullaby.

"_Mycroft." said the man who opened the door._

"_Father." Mycroft nodded in respect, and the man turned to Rose with a cruel smiled that made her shiver._

"_Rose."_

"_Father." Her voice quivered and his smile grew._

"_Rose, Mycroft, perhaps you could go and talk to your mother? I want to have a little talk with the Freak here."_

_Sherlock started to tremble and Mycroft had to drag Rose away._

"_Well?"_

"_Well, what, Father?"_

John winced as Sherlock's head snapped to the side from the force of the blow.

"_Don't get cocky with me, you worthless little freak! Go on! That freaky little trick you're so good at."_

_Sherlock looked up slightly. "You're having an affair with a waitress at the restaurant, Mummy doesn't know. You've been drinking and smoking before you got here and you're thinking about giving Mycroft a job in government. When are you going to tell Mummy about Catherine?"_

_Sherlock's father narrowed his eyes and pushed his son backwards. Sherlock hit the wall with a slight cry and was pinned by his throat for his noise._

"_You don't make a sound, you hear me? You just stay nice and quiet."_

_Sherlock nodded, his lip quivering. "Yes Father." he whispered._

John watched in horror as Sherlock was beaten and kicked by a man who was supposed to care for him. Molly gave a cry and turned her face into Greg's arm and Sally sobbed openly as Sherlock was left crying and whimpering on the floor.

"_I'll let your sister clean you up, just this once." Sherlock's father spat on him then walked away, humming a cheerful tune._

"That monster!" Sally cried. "Where is he?"

"Dead, Sergeant Donovan. He died two weeks ago." Mycroft smiled a satisfied smile and John shivered. Whatever Mycroft had done to that bastard, he sure as hell deserved it.

"_Sherlock? Oh, Sherlock!"_

_Rose ran towards him and pulled him into her lap. He turned his face into her and cried, his fingers tangling in her jumper. She ran her hands through his hair and began to sing a soft lullaby in French._

"_It's alright, Sherlock. I'm here."_

_Slowly, Sherlock's shudders ceased and he fell asleep in Rose's arms. She looked up at Mycroft. "Take him upstairs, I'll go get the bandages."_

_Mycroft nodded and lifted Sherlock like a doll. "Hurry."_

The film went black and Mycroft paused it. He looked down at Sherlock, who was shuddering, and ran his hand through the black curls.

"Bonne nuit, mon angeC'est l'heure de fermer les yeuxEt de mettre ces questions de côté pour un autre jourJe crois savoir ce que tu me demandaisJe crois que tu sais ce que j'essayais de direJe t'ai promis que je ne te quitterais jamaisEt tu devrais toujours savoirQue où que tu puisses allerOù que tu soisJe ne serai jamais très loin

Bonne nuit, mon angeMaintenant c'est l'heure de dormirEt il y a encore tellement de choses que j'ai envie de direSouviens-toi de toutes les chansons que tu m'as chantéesQuand nous sommes allés faire du bateau sur dans une baie émeraudeEt comme un bateau dans l'océanJe te berce pour que tu t'endormesL'eau est sombre et profondeÀ l'intérieur de ce vieux coeurTu seras toujours une part de moi

Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lulu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu

Bonne nuit, mon angeMaintenant c'est l'heure de rêverEt de rêver combien ta vie sera merveilleuseUn jour ton enfant pleurera peut-êtreEt si tu chantes cette berceuseAlors dans ton coeurIl y aura toujours une part de moi

Un jour nous serons tous partisMais les berceuses restent encore et encore...Elles ne meurent jamaisC'est ainsi que toiEt moiSerons"

Mycroft finished the lullaby and tears gathered in John's eyes as Sherlock relaxed and let the words wash over him. Mycroft laid his brother on the couch and sighed. "Now do you see? Do you see _why_?"

"Why is it my fault?"

Sally drew back from Peter in disgust. "How is it your fault? Sherlock's right, you really are an idiot."

Mycroft looked approvingly at Sally. "I take it there will be no more harsh words from you."

She shook her head. "No. Jesus, no. I'm so sorry. If I'd have know that he wasn't just doing it to piss everyone off, I would never -"

She broke off, sobbing, and Greg put an arm round her. "Exactly how bad was it?" he asked John.

John bit his lip. I had to stop myself from punching them both a few times." he admitted.

Greg whistled. If John , the ultimate gentleman, was thinking about punching _Sally_…

"Peter was always worse than me." Sally sobbed.

Greg's jaw clenched. "Anderson, you're fired. I don't want you near Sherlock and if I find out that you've said or done anything, then I _will_ issue you with a restraining order. Am I clear?"

Peter looked down and nodded. "Yes, Detective Inspector."

Mycroft smiled slightly. "Thank you Greg. Now, we just have to wait for Sherlock to wake up. I want him to see the next clip; I know for a fact it's one of his favourite memories."

_**A.N. - Poor Sherlock =( Please review!**_


	4. Author's Note

I've been informed the true origins of the lullaby I used, (Thank you for that, by the way. I would never have known) and I would like to say that all credit for it belongs to Billy Joel and that I own nothing.

She/he has also told me that the timing of the lullaby didn't for the timing of Sherlock. It's Fanfiction! Let's just pretend that it's an old French lullaby. I did actually try to find an older one, but 'Goodnight, My Angel' was the only one that seemed to fit the context in which it it's being used, which is to calm Sherlock after his abuse.

I just wanted to clear that up, and thank you 'credit where credit is due' for telling me, and thank you for your review


	5. Reading

John looked at Sherlock. He was asleep on the couch, his hand outstretched to the side. He clenched and unclenched his fingers.

"Why is he doing that?" Sally asked.

Mycroft sighed. "Rose and Sherlock used to sleep together, holding hands. That's why he refuses to sleep unless he passes out from exhaustion, because he can't go to sleep without her."

Molly sniffed. "That's awful."

Mycroft shrugged. "It's become the norm. Press play, John. I'll let him sleep."

_Sherlock was sat under a tree, reading a chemistry textbook. Occasionally he looked up across the garden and a faint smile flickered on his face._

John smiled as he looked at how peaceful Sherlock looked. He was in a shirt, leaning casually against the trunk of the tree. Around 15 years old, he already had the beauty that drew everyone's eyes to him.

"_Sherlock, are you going to move at all today?"_

_Sherlock looked up at Mycroft. "No."_

_Mycroft sighed.. "Sherlock, you've been out here since four o'clock this morning. It's nearly 1 o'clock in the afternoon."_

_Sherlock shrugged. "So?"_

"_Rose is worried about you."_

_Sherlock looked up at Rose, who was on the driveway washing a car. She looked up and smiled at him. Sherlock looked down at his book again. "She's always worried about me."_

"_So perhaps you should do something that doesn't make her worry?"_

_Sherlock put down his book and sighed. "Mycroft, you know why she worries all the time. You're fine, _he_ likes you and Rose is _his_ darling baby girl, but I'm just the freak. There's nothing I can do to stop her worrying about me."_

_Mycroft sat down across from Sherlock and picked up the book. "This is my old university text. Where did you get it?"_

_Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Where do you think I got it? My new _room_." Sherlock's face twisted on the last word._

_All of a sudden, Sherlock was dripping wet. A scowl grew on his face. "Mycroft…"_

"_I assure you, I had nothing to do with this, brother." Mycroft was trying to hold back a grin as he saw Rose put the bucket on the floor._

_Sherlock stood up slowly. "Rose? I suggest you run. Now."_

_There was a giggle, and a smirk grew on Sherlock's face. He turned around and chased after his sister._

John smiled as he saw Sherlock's smile. He glanced over at the couch and saw that Sherlock's eyes were open, and he was smiling with tears in his eyes.

_Sherlock caught Rose around the waist and lifted her in the air She squealed and kicked her legs._

"_Mycroft! Mycroft!"_

_Her laughing cries were cut off when Sherlock's hand snaked over her mouth. A moment later he drew it back and dropped her. "You licked me!"_

_She waved teasingly at him. "I warned you brother dearest! If you put your hand over my mouth to shut me up, I will lick you! It's not my fault you weren't listening!"_

_She turned away and started to walk off._

Molly chuckled as she saw Rose counting down from 5.

_Sherlock ran after her and scooped her up into his arms. He carried her over to the tree and sat down. She leaned against his chest and his arms went around her. Mycroft handed Sherlock the book and the two twins read it together._

_Mycroft smiled slightly. "Let me guess, the two of you won't be moving until it gets dark, will you?"_

_They shook their heads. "Tell Mummy we won't be wanting any supper."_

"_Tell her yourself. I'll be leaving in an hour."_

"_Bye."_

_Mycroft snorted quietly, then leaned down and kissed Rose on the head, and ruffled Sherlock's hair slightly._

Sherlock sniffed slightly. "Myc?"

Mycroft turned towards his brother so fast John was sure he had whiplash. "What is it brother-mine?"

Sherlock sniffed again. "Where's Rosie? I want Rosie, Myc. Where is she?""

John's mouth fell open. He heard Molly and Sally start to cry.

"Jesus…" said Greg.

John saw a tear fall from Mycroft's eye. "She's not here Sher. She hasn't been here for a long time."

Tears spilled from Sherlock's eyes. Mycroft enveloped his brother in a hug. "It's alright, Sher. I'll find her. I promise."

Sherlock nodded slowly, his eyes closed and he slumped against Mycroft. The older man laid his brother carefully on the couch again and turned around.

"Here." John poured him a drink. Mycroft looked as though he were 50 years older.

"Thank you, John." Mycroft drained the drink in one. "I had no idea how hard this was going to be."

"Why are you even doing this?" Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled sadly. "It's a long overdue Christmas present to my brother. One I'm sure he'll appreciate when it's over."

"A Christmas present?" Molly growled. "You're torturing him like this for a Christmas present?"

John held up a hand. "Molly, nothing Mycroft does is for nothing."

"But it's cruel!"

"Molly's right," Sally looked up. "It's not right."

"Ladies, please. John is right. The end of this present will make all this pain quite worth it."

Everyone sighed. They didn't like it, but they would just have to sit there and give Sherlock all the support he needed.

_**A.N. - Poor Sherlock =( Please review! I hope you like it!**_


	6. Revelations

_**A.N. - FullMoonPhoenixShadow, Y U NO HAVE PM? Thank you for your reviews, and I'm glad you like the story. =)**_

John looked at Sherlock and sighed. This was _not_ how he'd planned to spend his Christmas, most definitely not the first Christmas since Sherlock's return.

He walked over to Peter, who since he had been sacked had not moved or looked up from the floor. "Hey, Peter, I'm sure Lestrade's just angry. He won't really have fired you, you'll see."

"I was so awful to him, John. I _hated_ him. I thought he was a smug, arrogant show-off that didn't care about anything. When he looked at me and knew everything about me before I'd even said anything, I really thought he was a freak." Peter looked up, and John cringed inwardly on the haunted look in Anderson's eyes. "I never stopped to check if there was a reason for him being so…well, _him_, I just hated him."

John placed a calming hand on Peter's shoulder. "It's understandable, Peter. To be honest, the first few weeks I lived with him I hated him too. I thought he was manipulative, cold and heartless. And then I saw him pass out from lack of food. I saw Mrs Hudson worry about him, how she did everything she could to make him comfortable. Then when he woke up, he seemed just the same as ever, but then that afternoon he went out for around 3 hours and came back with a bunch of flowers and a cake that he'd baked himself for her. He cares, Peter. He is human, however much he tries to hide it."

Mycroft came to join them. "Sherlock once asked me if there was something wrong with us, why we were indifferent when everyone seemed to care so much about everything. I told him that all lives ended, that all hearts were broken and that caring was not an advantage."

"But, what do you have if you don't care for people. Even the F- Sherlock, even Sherlock cares for people." Peter frowned.

Mycroft smiled a sad smile. "Do you know why I wear this ring on my right ring finger, Peter? It is a mark of commitment, a mark of belonging to someone that I can never have. My work, and my brother's, will not allow it."

"Sherlock's work?" John frowned.

"My brother is much more than a consulting detective. When I require it, he works for me. You may have noticed how all the people who work for me are single, yes?"

John and Peter nodded, and John noticed that everyone else was listening.

"In our line of work, we are always at risk. The people we love are always at risk. The more you care, the more an enemy has to use against you, the more you have to lose. So, therefore, it is better simply not to care. And yet, sometimes we slip. Sometimes enemies find our weaknesses and exploit them. Sometimes they trap us, as we don't know whether to choose between those we love, or what we have to do. Sometimes they trap us into sacrificing everything to save the people we love, even our lives." Mycroft gave John a significant look.

"So the reason Sherlock seems like he doesn't care is because he's trying not to?" Sally asked.

Mycroft nodded. "Trying and failing. Had he followed what he had been taught, had he distanced himself from emotion, three of the people in this house would be dead, perhaps four."

"Four?" frowned Greg. "I know there were snipers on me, John and Mrs Hudson, but how would four be dead?"

"He flatters you Molly, correct? Then seems to flip and insult you, yes?" Mycroft looked at her intently.

She nodded. "Yeah, but why do you need to kn -?"

Smiling, Mycroft nodded towards his sleeping brother. "There is a reason Sherlock avoided the lab for a few weeks after he met you. There is a reason why he insults you so harshly, why he seems to offer compliments at the most random of moments, why he asks you for the most ridiculous things. There is a reason, and unfortunately, he can never tell you that reason."

"Molly's his ring." John realised. "She's the person he wants but can never have."

"Yes, John. Every time he sees her, every time she asks him for coffee, or flirts with him, it gets harder and harder for him to say no. Hence why he insults you so much."

Molly gasped. "He's trying to stop me liking him! But why the compliments?"

"Because he can't bear to see you looking unhappy and know that his words are the cause." Mycroft shrugged.

"How the hell do you know all this?" Greg asked.

Mycroft smirked. "Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock and I are not as hateful to each other as we pretend. We are all the other has left in the world, the only person who truly understands how we are. If he called, I would run as fast as I was able to his side, and he would do the same for me. We speak to each other of our fear, our frustrations, our desires and yes, Sherlock has confessed that he loves you, Molly. As I remember, he was crying in despair that he could never tell you. It was after the day you introduced him to 'Jim from IT'.

"Moriarty." John growled.

"Yes," Mycroft nodded. "Though at the time he simply thought he was your boyfriend. He was quite jealous, I can tell you. He never usually destroys your relationships so harshly, does he? He does hate it when you find a man."

"What, does he think if he can't have me, no-one can?"

"That's precisely what he thinks. I'm the same with my 'interest', shall we call her."

John snorted. "The difference between you and Sherlock, Mycroft, is that Anthea actually spends _all_ her time with you. You don't really need to shoot down any competition."

"You'd be surprised." Mycroft muttered. "And how did you know it was Anthea?"

"She wears a ring too. And I wouldn't be surprised if half of those 'boyfriends' are fake, just to get you jealous."

Mycroft smiled again. "So you see, Sherlock leads a difficult life. He has always know exactly where he stands with his emotions, but you, John, have tried to make him a better man by showing him how to let them in. You succeeded, I'll grant you that, only Rose was able to make him open up, but you have placed yourselves in danger by doing so. Sherlock is not a heartless man, in actual fact, he cares probably more than any of you, but it is getting harder for him. He doesn't know what to do."

"We'll help him." said Sally. "He doesn't have to do everything alone."

Mycroft smiled. "Thank you, Sally, but it is a case of whether my brother will accept your help or not. He always was very stubborn."

"Was? Where have you been the last 7 years?" Greg laughed.

John looked at Peter. "I don't think Sherlock will ever like you." he said quietly. "But he may be able to tolerate you. Eventually. With a lot of persuasion."

_**A.N. - Two chapters in one day! Yippee! Please review!**_


	7. Concerto No 3

Sherlock screamed. A horrible scream that was full of pain. He thrashed around on the couch and Mycroft pounced on Sherlock and held him down.

"Wake him up, John!"

John thought for a second, then decided to copy Mycroft and slap Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes flew open, and he stopped screaming. He drew in a shuddering breath, then pushed Mycroft off him. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he curled into Mycroft's side.

"_Sherlock?"_

_Sherlock looked up at Rose. "What, Rosie? I'm busy."_

_She smiled and took the violin from him. "You've been playing that thing for three hours, according to Elsa. Aren't you going to come and see Mummy?"_

"Who's Elsa?" asked Peter.

"Housekeeper."

_Sherlock shook his head as his arms went round his sister's waist. "She doesn't want to see me. Not after last night."_

"_What was wrong with last night? I thought it was funny." Rose frowned._

_Sherlock smirked. "Perhaps. But Mummy didn't find it amusing that our guest was rudely informed of his wife's affair while drinking a glass of red wine. Especially as he spat it all over the tablecloth, which was pure white."_

"_Well, I thought it was funny." Rose grumbled. "Mummy has no sense of humour."_

"_True. Although, there'll be hell to pay when _he_ gets back."_

_Rose sighed and rested her head on Sherlock's shoulder. His head lowered to sit on hers. "Can we not talk about _him _today? Please?"_

_Sherlock nodded. "Alright. Do you want me to play for you?"_

_Rose lifted her head and her face lit up. "Would you?"_

"_Yes." Sherlock smiled._

_Rose jumped onto a cupboard and sat there, while Sherlock elegantly lifted the violin to his neck._

John smiled as Mozart's concerto no. 3 echoed through the room. He recognised it as it was something Sherlock played a lot, always when he seemed upset. Now John knew why.

_Sherlock gave a theatrical bow as he finished and Rose played along, clapping and cheering. "Encore!" she cried, and Sherlock's lips twitched upwards._

"_Perhaps if I had an accompanying pianist?" He pointed with his bow to the piano in the corner and Rose flushed._

"_Sher, you know I don't like to play."_

"_Please?" For me?"_

"The two magic words." Mycroft muttered.

"What?"

"They could deny each other nothing." Mycroft smiled sadly. "All the other had to do was ask that it be done for them and it was one before you could blink. If Sherlock asked her to play specifically for him, she would, and the same for him."

"They really were everything to each other, weren't they?" Greg smiled softly and pulled Sally closer. She was crying again.

_As Rose walked past Sherlock she kissed him on the cheek. She sat at the piano and played a quick arpeggio. Sherlock raised the violin again._

Sherlock covered his ears and John instantly knew what was coming. "Für Elise." he said.

"How on earth do you know that?" Mycroft asked, eyebrows raised.

"Sherlock hates that song. Look." he pointed to Sherlock, who was clamping his hands over his ears as though he never wanted to hear again.

_The soothing notes of Fur Elise rose into the air, Sherlock waiting for a little while before adding the tones of the violin. The twins lost themselves in the music, not seeing their father come up the stairs and stand in the doorway._

"_Well, it seems you're not completely useless, Freak."_

_Sherlock jumped and span to face the door. Rose jumped up. "Father, you're back!"_

"_Where's you mother?"_

"_In the tea room." Rose answered quickly. "She was just asking about you before I came up here. I think she wants to go somewhere for Christmas."_

_Their father sneered. "She's a Holmes born and bred, that one. Want, want, want. Tell her we'll be staying here for Christmas. I have plans."_

"So you took your mother's name?"

Mycroft nodded at Molly. "We had no desire to be connected with that man. The name Holmes was on our birth certificates, anyway. They were filled out by Mummy."

_The two relaxed as he went downstairs. Sherlock turned to Rose. "That was beautiful."_

_She smiled. "And if you don't play as well as you just did in the concert tomorrow, I'll be very upset."_

"_You'll be proud no matter how I play, Rosie." Sherlock put the violin away and offered his sister his arm." Shall we?"_

_She laughed a sparkling laugh and took his arm. "Why, yes. Yes, we shall."_

**A.N. - Plans? What plans? I don't know, I'm writing this as it comes to me. Please review!**


	8. The Brighter Side To Death

Sherlock looked at Mycroft and frowned. "I don't want to watch the next one."

Mycroft sighed. "I'm sorry, Sherlock, but we have to."

_Sherlock sat at a table, looking at the door every few seconds. He turned to a woman who was sat on a couch. "Where's Mycroft? He should be back from the train station now."_

"_Your father's gone to get her instead."_

_Sherlock turned abruptly. "What?"_

_The woman, who was the spitting image of Sherlock and Rose, shifted a little. "Mycroft phoned to say that he couldn't make it for another 3 days, some crisis in government, so your father said he'd go get Rose instead."_

_Sherlock put his head in his hands and wrenched at his hair. "No." he moaned. "Why did you let him go!"_

"_Well, it's not like I could stop him, darling. Why does it matter so much?"_

"_Because -"_

_The door opened. "Rose is missing!" cried Sherlock's father._

_Sherlock threw his mother a withering look, before stalking out of the door and pulling on his coat. "I'll be gone a while, mother."_

_As Sherlock left the house, the camera seemed to zoom in on the smirk on Sherlock's father's face._

"Don't tell me it was him!" Greg exclaimed. John nodded in agreement.

Mycroft snarled. "It was him. Sherlock and myself always suspected, but we were never able to prove it. Until around 8 months ago."

"Why, what happened 8 months ago?"

Mycroft smirked. "Something made him confess."

John shuddered. "I don't think I want to know what."

"_Sherlock, come and eat something." Mycroft looked worriedly at his brother, who was stood by the window._

_Sherlock shook his head. "No."_

_Mycroft looked at his mother helplessly and shook his head. "Has the Inspector been in touch?"_

"_No. But I'm hoping he will be tonight."_

"_Hoping for a Christmas miracle, Mummy?"_

_She smiled slightly. "It's a long shot, but it's the best thing we can hope for."_

"_They will find her, they have to!" Sherlock turned to his brother, his eyes wild and tearful._

_The door banged open and an official looking man burst into the room. Mycroft rose to his feet, as did his mother._

_Sherlock's eyes were wide and his breathing had quickened. "Well?"_

_The man looked down. "We found her in bowman's field."_

"_So why isn't she here?" Sherlock demanded._

_The man looked up slightly. "I am so very sorry."_

Sherlock curled up even more and whimpered. There were tears streaming down his face and Mycroft ran a soothing hand through his hair.

_Sherlock's breath caught. "No." he whispered in disbelief. He turned to the window and stared into the falling snow. _

_Mycroft took a step forward. "Sherlock -"_

"_NO!" Sherlock screamed, falling to the floor. He grabbed his hair in his hands and pulled the black curls._

Molly and Sally sobbed as they heard the heartbroken cries that were spilling from the young Sherlock's lips.

"_We promised. We promised we wouldn't leave each other." Sherlock whispered brokenly._

_Sherlock's mother pressed a hand over her mouth and ran from the room, sobbing. Mycroft stepped closer to his brother and knelt down next to him._

"_Sherlock, you have to look on the bright side."_

"There's a bright side to death?" Peter looked at Mycroft sceptically.

"Of course." the man shrugged.

"How?" frowned John.

"There's a bright side to everything, even death.." Sherlock said blankly. "It's just harder to see."

"_What bright side?" Sherlock sobbed._

"_Rose will always be watching you. She will always be taking care of you."_

"_She's still here?"_

"_In a way, brother. In a way."_

_Sherlock slumped against Mycroft and latched his hands onto his brother's jacket. "She's not here. I can tell. She's gone."_

"_We'll find her, Sherlock. She won't be gone forever."_

Tears were pouring down everyone's faces. Mycroft stood up and walked over to the door. "Sherlock, I brought you a present. I've been taking care of it, getting it ready for you."

Sherlock looked up. "I don't want a present."

Mycroft smirked. "I think you'll quite like this one." He opened the door and stood back.

John's jaw dropped. "Impossible!" he gasped.

_**A.N. - Cliff-hanger, sorry! But you can probably guess what the next bit is =) Please review! (and yes, I shamelessly used a line from 'Van Helsing', I don't own it.)**_


	9. Christmas Presents

John couldn't take his eyes away from the door, but when Sherlock took a step forwards, the doctor looked to his best friend on concern.

"This isn't possible." Sherlock said slowly. "You - you're not real."

"I assure you Shirley, I am _very_ real."

"I told you not to call me Shirley!" Sherlock snarled, before bursting into tears.

John started forwards, but Mycroft held out a hand and gave him a warning look. Instead of going to Sherlock, John looked intently at the woman in the doorway. She was thinner and looked beaten, but she was unmistakably the girl from the DVD. She was Rose.

She walked towards her brother and wiped away his tears gently. "Merry Christmas, brother-mine."

Sherlock's fingers ran shakily through her hair. "You're here, you're really here!"

"I never left, Sher."

"I'm terribly sorry to break this up, but you were _dead_. How the hell are you really Rose?" Sally frowned.

Rose held up her top. There was a pale scar running diagonally down her stomach past her hipbone. Sherlock traced it with a finger and hissed slightly.

"It never faded." he murmured. A sudden grin lit up his features and he let out a whoop, picking Rose up and spinning her around.

John smiled as he saw how happy Sherlock looked. There was a wild joy in the detective's eyes and a wide smile spread across his face. He slowly put Rose on the floor, never taking his eyes off her face, before he crushed her in a tight hug

"I missed you." he whispered into her hair. "I missed you so much!"

She smiled tearfully and kissed his cheek. "I know, Sher. I know."

Sherlock smiled as she yawned. "Go to bed, Rosie."

He kissed her eyelids and she smiled. "You'll be here?"

"You need to ask? I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Rose gave the musical laugh that John had grown used to hearing from the DVD and walked towards Sherlock's room. John smiled at her as she looked at him in puzzlement.

Sherlock gave an overjoyed laugh and hugged Mycroft. "Thank you!"

Mycroft smiled and whispered in Sherlock's ear. Sherlock stiffened. "Are you sure?"

Mycroft pulled out a small silver ring from his pocket. "It was Mummy's."

Sherlock gave a small smile. "Thank you, Mycroft. Really."

As Mycroft left, Sherlock turned to everyone in the room. "You didn't have to stay."

Greg scoffed. "Yeah, because we were going to leave. Don't be daft, mate."

Sally stepped forwards. "Sherlock, I want to apologise. I should never have said the things I did."

Smiling slightly, Sherlock twisted the ring around his fingers. "It's fine, Sally. It doesn't matter."

Molly ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. "You should have said something!" she sobbed.

Sherlock looked stunned, before pulling Molly closer and bending his head close to her ear. John was close enough to hear the softly whispered words.

"I love you, Molly Hooper. Marry me?"

She gasped and looked at him. Sherlock looked deadly serious. He raised an eyebrow. "A question requires an answer, Molly."

She reached up and brushed a kiss across his lips. "Deduce my answer." she smiled.

Sherlock laughed and kissed her. John saw that he slipped the ring onto her finger as he did. He turned to Greg, Sally and Peter. "Sherlock's going to be fine." he smiled.

_**A.N. - Only one chapter left now! Review and tell me what you think! FullMoonPhoenixShadow, you are a star. Thank you so much for every single review! =)**_


	10. Happiness

John stood in the doorway and watched Sherlock smile as he curled his fingers around his sister's.

"I thought I'd never see her again, John."

"I know, Sherlock. I know."

Sherlock shook his head slightly. "You don't understand. You're the one who helps me understand how everyone else acts, what's normal. With Rose I didn't need to understand. She understood already, so when she was there I just _knew_."

Stepping quietly into the room, John gave Sherlock a look. "I don't think you've been honest with us, Sherlock. Neither has Mycroft. How exactly is she still alive?"

Sherlock sighed and got up. "When _he_ took her away, he kept her drugged in a basement underneath a nuclear bunker. He raped her, John. So _many_ times."

John gasped quietly as he saw tears running down Sherlock's cheeks. "Sherlock! She's safe now!"

He nodded. "I know, I just…It shouldn't have happened in the first place."

"You can't change it, Sherlock. You can only be happy that she's here and that you have her back."

…...

"Sherlock Holmes! What have you done to my bridesmaid?"

Sherlock blanched slightly as Molly came up to him, furious. "We were baking."

John chuckled as Sherlock leaned away from Molly as she ranted at him. Sherlock was a terrible cook, even more so when he was with his sister, who was, in an amusing twist, John's date to the wedding that afternoon.

"Molly, I thought you were supposed to be getting ready?"

"That was before you were covered in flour and egg."

Rose smiled and shooed Molly out of the flat. "I'll shout at my brother, you let Sally make you even prettier."

With a happy smile, Sherlock opened his arms and Rose jumped onto his lap. "Santa, I want a pony for Christmas." she teased.

John snorted. "You'll be lucky if you manage to catch the bouquet."

"Quiet Watson, or you can think again about sharing my hotel room."

Sherlock grimaced. "I do not want to know. At all."

"Tough." Rose kissed him on the cheek. "Now, you have a tux to put on, Mycroft to meet, Mummy to keep away from Molly and Anderson to terrorize."

"I don't think I have it in me to keep Mummy from going on the warpath."

"Ask Mycroft to help. And you two had better be in those tuxes by the time Greg and Peter get here."

"I don't really see the point, it's not going to be staying on me for that long once the weddings over and done with." John shrugged and winked at Rose.

Sherlock shoved his hands over his ears. "I don't want to know!"

Rose smirked and looked at her brother innocently. "But, Sherlock, I thought you were going to give John the talk about how to treat a woman? Mycroft would have done, except John told him that he was a bit late for it."

"Not listening!"

Laughing, Rose disappeared down the stairs, leaving Sherlock to glare at his best man.

"Really, John?"

"What?"

Sherlock's glare intensified. "You couldn't wait until _after_ my wedding to sleep with my sister?"

"Sherlock, you and Molly couldn't even wait until New Years!" John said indignantly.

"Not the point. Molly's not your sister."

John placed a hand on his pocket and smiled at Sherlock. "Hopefully she will be."

Startled, Sherlock blinked for a second, before grinning at John. "Just make an honest woman of her, please, John?"

John chuckled. "I couldn't do that if I tried. Not unless I had her permission."

…...

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may -"

The minister closed his mouth abruptly as Sherlock swept Molly into a searing kiss that took her breath away.

"Well, that's that done with, now, who wants to get pissed?"

John's quip was met with laughter and cheers, and a playful hit from the Holmes twins and the new Mrs Holmes.

At dinner, John stood up and there was suddenly silence. "When I first met Sherlock, he knew everything about me after just looking at me, and I'm sure he was the same with most of you. The day _after_ I met Sherlock, I killed a man to save his life and found out that his brother ran the country."

There was a pause for chuckles and an appreciative smile from Mycroft.

"When I met Molly Hooper, I didn't have to be a Holmes to know that she was completely in love with him, and I also knew that there had to be some ridiculous reason as to why Sherlock wouldn't give her the time of day or night, as, and this is probably going to lose me my date for the night, Molly was the prettiest, kindest girl I'd ever met. Now, I'm stood here at their wedding, and I couldn't be more pleased or more happy for the both of them."

"You looked pretty pleased with yourself when my sister agreed to be your date." Sherlock grinned, and John felt himself blush.

"And it's thanks to Sherlock's sister Rose that I know things about him that would make Molly hair curl, but let's not go there. What I really stood up to say was that I couldn't be more proud of Sherlock, the best fried I've ever had, for having the guts to stand up there and say 'I do' to the woman of his dreams, and I would also like to say good luck, because Molly, as soon as you move in together you're sure as hell going to need it!"

John sat down to laughter, and tears of joy from the bride, who kissed him on the cheek, and a hug form Sherlock, that expressed more than John knew Sherlock would ever be able to say.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Marry my sister, or I'll kill you for not giving me the chance to rip you to shreds in a best man speech."

As John laughed, he looked at Mycroft and raised his glass in a toast to the man who'd brought them _all_ a Christmas present they'd been wishing for, not just Sherlock.

Happiness.

_**A.N. - Well, I finally plucked up the courage to watch Reichenbach Fall all the way through, and desperately needed to write something happy to stop myself crying. Sherlock may be OOC, but let's face it, he's had the best months of his life after Rose came back, he'd be a bit different.**_


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